In the comment section, a reader wrote, “Jesus was one of the greatest ever born. I am fascinated by the improvements and additions he made to the already existing ideals, but he created complications by claiming to be incarnation or son of God …” (Do You Need to Drop “the Weight of Christianity”?)

“He created complications” is both true and an immense understatement. His words alone challenge us.

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24).

“If you love me, keep my commands” (John 14:15).

Serve others …

… and you will be great.

Die …

… and you will live.

Our centered-in-us natures wrestle with these statements because they push us beyond self-interest and even the basic human desire for self-preservation.

No easy task (and, yes, I realize that’s both trite and obvious).

But Jesus complicates things further, especially if you didn’t grow up in a Christian community, by adding the weight of his identity—“… the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (Peter’s statement, Matthew 16:16). “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1 where the Apostle John identifies Jesus as “the Word”).

“Before Abraham was born, I AM.”

Jesus said that to a group of religious leaders after their lengthy interrogation concerning his identity. They understood the reference and picked up stones to kill him (see John 8:48-59).

The complication comes when Jesus’ teachings are put up against his claims. Few argue with what he taught. His sayings get repeated in today’s world by Christians and non-Christians alike. They’re brilliant.

But how could someone so brilliant make such outlandish claims about his identity as eternal God?

In other words, how could a crazy man speak such philosophical gems as the Golden Rule—“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”? How could a mere man claiming God as Father—that’s exceptional self-delusion—do so much good?

Jesus’ claim boogers up all the good he taught and did.

Unless …

He told the truth.

In general, people accept Jesus’ teaching on seeking spiritual blessings over material ones and living sacrificially for the benefit of others.

But when the topic is “Jesus is God,” we respond in one of three ways.

Indifference. We simply don’t consider who he claims to be. A nice man who did lots of good and said some interesting things is sufficient. We don’t need to go any deeper. Let other people argue about that religious mumbo jumbo. Yawn!

Despite growing up in a Christian home, I would have fit into this category for my first 17 years of life. I didn’t understand Jesus’ claims and didn’t care one way or another who he was.

Anger. We understand his claims, or at least the claims of others about him, and get pretty riled up about such an intolerant position.

If we’re here, we’re closer to the truth than when we’re indifferent. We understand the implications. We just don’t like them. (I write about hot and cold responses to Jesus in A Tale of Two Flight Attendants)

Excitement. We understand his claims and accept them. We realize the difference between living a life of religious rules without him and an authentic life of relationship in him.

I came to hold this position in January of 1972 (yes, that is a long time ago). An encounter with a living Jesus Christ has a way of doing that to a person.

I’m curious. What is your response to Jesus’ identity? If you grew up in a Christian home, what did you hear about Jesus? If you didn’t, what do you think about Jesus?

Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes

Two men. Two eternal destinies.

One common hope.

A poignant and compelling portrayal of heaven and hell, with a powerful look at redemption from the perspective of both the lost…and the saved. Well done!–Susan May Warren, best-selling, award-winning author of You Don’t Know Me.

Tarver’s storytelling technique as he takes us along with Nick and Wayne’s journeys through opposite eternal pathways is nothing short of genius. … A must read.–Linda Rondeau, best-selling author of It Really IS A Wonderful Life

Come along with T. Neal Tarver on a roller coaster journey to the afterlife, from the bliss of heaven to the despair of hell.–Dawn Kiefer, Editor, Richland Observer

On a long road trip, I listened to an audio version of Zorro: A Novel by Isabel Allende. Toward the novel’s end, Zorro’s mother throws off “the weight of Christianity” and returns to her Native American ways.

What in Heaven’s name is “the weight of Christianity”?

Well …

If you’re a Christian man, you keep your hair trimmed.

If you’re a Christian woman, you grow your hair long.

You must have a daily devotional time.

You must memorize scripture.

You must tithe.

You must not go to R-rated movies.

You must not read fiction trash like Zorro.

You must be prim and proper in social settings.

You must attend church services on a regular basis.

And you must dress up when you go to church.

For sure, if you’re a Bible-believing, Spirit-filled, Jesus-loving person, you must vote for good conservative Republicans.

I’m not trying to tick people off here, so please stick with me on this one. Instead I’m trying to get into the head of Zorro’s mother (and Isabel Allende and others who hold a different worldview than me). And I’m challenging us as followers of Christ to recognize “the weight of Christianity” we often superimpose over the Gospel.

After spending time with Jericho’s chief tax collector and witnessing his conversion, Jesus had to explain to the religious conservatives, “… the Son of Man has come to seek and to save the lost.”

During his earthly ministry, the Lord had the most difficulty not with the Isabel Allendes of life who cast off “the weight of Christianity” but with the religious Tom Tarvers who added to its burden.

Just in case you were wondering …

Jesus Christ is not a conservative.

He’s not a liberal.

He’s not Protestant.

He’s not Catholic.

He’s not even Christian.

He is Lord.

Jesus Christ did not come to validate the American Dream or preserve the American Way of Life.

Nor did He come to expand the rules of the religious life and add to “the weight of Christianity”.

He came, in His own words, “to seek and to save the lost.”

I’d encourage you to drop “the weight of Christianity” and focus on two simple things—knowing Jesus Christ and making Him known to others.

In January 1972, I had a profound encounter with Jesus Christ. He changed the entire trajectory of my life—from missing life’s target to being centered in Him.

New Christian neighbors moved next door at some point after my conversion. One of the neighbors asked me a series of questions. “Were you baptized?”

“Yes.”

“Dunked under the water?”

“Yes.”

“What name was used?”

“What do you mean?”

“What did the preacher say when he dunked you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Did he say, ‘… in the name of Jesus …’ or ‘… in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit’?”

“I don’t know. All I know is I have Jesus Christ in my heart.”

Not good enough. According to my neighbor …

You must be baptized by immersion.

The preacher must say, “In the name of Jesus.”

That’s “the weight of Christianity”—the add-ons that go beyond “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved …” (Acts 16:31).

I’m curious. What spiritual dead weight have you heard added to Christianity?

Recommended links:

Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes

Two men. Two eternal destinies.

One common hope.

A poignant and compelling portrayal of heaven and hell, with a powerful look at redemption from the perspective of both the lost…and the saved. Well done!–Susan May Warren, best-selling, award-winning author of You Don’t Know Me.

Tarver’s storytelling technique as he takes us along with Nick and Wayne’s journeys through opposite eternal pathways is nothing short of genius. … A must read.–Linda Rondeau, best-selling author of It Really IS A Wonderful Life

Come along with T. Neal Tarver on a roller coaster journey to the afterlife, from the bliss of heaven to the despair of hell.–Dawn Kiefer, Editor, Richland Observer

We’ve all heard the tragic news from last Friday’s shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary. In a matter of moments, twenty-six souls stepped out of time and into eternity—six women and twenty children ages six and seven. The gunman murdered every soul save one in a first-grade classroom. The lone survivor feigned her own death as her classmates were gunned down.

In a poignant commentary, Joe Scarborough said, “Today as a nation, we grieve; and today we as a people feel helpless.” He spoke of soon watching “the burials of these babies.”

Questions abound in the aftermath of the massacre. I’m sure these three questions have surfaced in various forms and with various degrees of incredulity. Is there a God in heaven? Does He know about what happened? Does He care?

Don’t take these next words as glib or callous. They are not.

Every moment of every day, someone steps out of time and into eternity.

Every moment of every day, someone dies.

Every moment of every day.

The trip has always been one way—from time into eternity. This has been true of Ancient Egypt’s pharaohs … or first-century Roman captives led into the Coliseum … or Civil War casualties … or Holocaust victims … or starving children in Africa … or first graders at Sandy Hook Elementary.

Always one way!

Always …

… step out …

… of time …

… into eternity.

Always.

Except once!

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

The Son of God stepped out of eternity and into time. He brought light into our dark world.

A mass shooting during the height of the holiday season is about as dark as it gets. Yet, in the midst of tragic death, the mystery—One who steps out of eternity into time—lives. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5 NIV).

Is there a God in heaven?

Yes, and over two thousand years ago, He stepped out of eternity into a stable connected to a Bethlehem inn.

Does God know?

Yes, God knows. Jesus said that a sparrow doesn’t fall from the sky without God’s notice. He also said God knows the number of hairs on our heads. He knew, knows, and forever will know the names of all twenty-six victims from Friday’s massacre.

Does God care?

Yes, God cares. After talking about “the birds of the air” and “the flowers of the field,” Jesus said, “Are you not more valuable than they?”

After Jesus raised a widow’s son from the dead (Luke 7:11-17), witnesses testified, “God has come to help his people.”

On Friday morning, December 14th, at Sandy Hook Elementary, twenty first graders and their teachers stepped out of time into eternity.

On an evening long ago, in a distant land, One stepped out of eternity into time.

Isaiah spoke a prophetic word centuries before the birth of Christ. “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned” (Isaiah 9:2 NIV).

Today our nation is a “land of deep darkness.”

But in this Christmas season, we remember the Light who “shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Recommended links:

Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes

Two men. Two eternal destinies.

One common hope.

A poignant and compelling portrayal of heaven and hell, with a powerful look at redemption from the perspective of both the lost…and the saved. Well done!–Susan May Warren, best-selling, award-winning author of You Don’t Know Me.

“Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes” was a compelling read for me. The vivid descriptions challenged and ignited my imagination. Tom skillfully laid out a clever story that caused me to think and made me want to read to the end.–Ron Fruit GM, WRCO Radio

I’d like to make Jesus’s words more difficult to understand than they really are. I’d like to say, “Boy, that Jesus—He sure is smart. In fact, He’s so smart I don’t understand half of what He’s talking about.”

I’d like to …

… but I can’t.

I can say, “Boy, that Jesus—He sure is smart.”

That would be … well … duh!

I can also say, “I do understand what He’s talking about … if I pay attention.”

The fault isn’t in His words being difficult (at least, not difficult to understand). It lies in my slothful habits. If not for other Christ followers, I’d miss so much of what He says.

Case in point—this line which we read in Sunday School (yes, I do go to Sunday School—I need it): “Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom the master has put in charge of the servants in his household to give them their food at the proper time?” (Matthew 24:45 NIV)

Jesus goes on to speak about the difference between the faithful and the wicked servant. The funny thing is His standard of judgment has a little to do with the Master and a lot to do with everyone else.

Read the servant’s assignment again. “Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom the master has put in charge of the servants in his household to give them their food at the proper time?”

The servant doesn’t have to go into town and talk about how great the Master is. He doesn’t have to sing the Master’s praises. He doesn’t have to attend weekly prayer meetings to request traveling mercies for the Master.

The servant does have one simple directive he must follow though—feed the others on time.

What then separates the good servant from the bad one?

This one thing—his treatment of those under him. More specifically—whether he makes sure their needs are met or not.

“It will be good for that servant whose master finds him doing so when he returns. Truly I tell you, he will put him in charge of all his possessions” (Matthew 24:46-47).

Job well done? Okay, here’re the keys to the Rolls and my personal VISA card.

Sweeeettt!

And if the servant isn’t taking care of the needs of those under him—if he’s abusing his status instead and therefore abusing those placed in his charge?

Are you familiar with the phrase “weeping and gnashing of teeth?”

Keys to the car or a hot time down under—all depends on how well you treat others.

For me, the convicting thing isn’t the future rejoicing or weeping. It’s how my words and actions influence others and their view of the Master now. “If that’s a Christ follower and he treats people like crap, I want nothing to do with Jesus.”

Ouch!

So where do I start and where do I most need to practice this passage?

At home!

Here’s how I could rephrase the verse: “Who then is the faithful and wise husband, whom the wife has put in charge of the household dog to give her food at the proper time?”

Look. I know the verse is about more than taking care of my dog. But, for me, that’s the place to start.

Recommended links:

Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes

Two men. Two eternal destinies.

One common hope.

A poignant and compelling portrayal of heaven and hell, with a powerful look at redemption from the perspective of both the lost…and the saved. Well done!–Susan May Warren, best-selling, award-winning author of You Don’t Know Me.

“Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes” was a compelling read for me. The vivid descriptions challenged and ignited my imagination. Tom skillfully laid out a clever story that caused me to think and made me want to read to the end.–Ron Fruit GM, WRCO Radio

Recommended links:

Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes

Two men. Two eternal destinies.

One common hope.

A poignant and compelling portrayal of heaven and hell, with a powerful look at redemption from the perspective of both the lost…and the saved. Well done!–Susan May Warren, best-selling, award-winning author of You Don’t Know Me.

“Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes” was a compelling read for me. The vivid descriptions challenged and ignited my imagination. Tom skillfully laid out a clever story that caused me to think and made me want to read to the end.–Ron Fruit GM, WRCO Radio

Recommended links:

Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes

Two men. Two eternal destinies.

One common hope.

A poignant and compelling portrayal of heaven and hell, with a powerful look at redemption from the perspective of both the lost…and the saved. Well done!–Susan May Warren, best-selling, award-winning author of You Don’t Know Me.

“Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes” was a compelling read for me. The vivid descriptions challenged and ignited my imagination. Tom skillfully laid out a clever story that caused me to think and made me want to read to the end.–Ron Fruit GM, WRCO Radio

Recommended links:

Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes

Two men. Two eternal destinies.

One common hope.

A poignant and compelling portrayal of heaven and hell, with a powerful look at redemption from the perspective of both the lost…and the saved. Well done!–Susan May Warren, best-selling, award-winning author of You Don’t Know Me.

“Dark Eyes, Deep Eyes” was a compelling read for me. The vivid descriptions challenged and ignited my imagination. Tom skillfully laid out a clever story that caused me to think and made me want to read to the end.–Ron Fruit GM, WRCO Radio